


Green Eyes

by numbika



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Funny, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Other, Series, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 21:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numbika/pseuds/numbika
Summary: "An Outside Context Problem was the sort of thing most civilisations encountered just once, and which they tended to encounter rather in the same way a sentence encountered a full stop."Iain M. Banks, ExcessionThe beast with the million eyes was watching the events unfold since the dawn of humanity. It is not pleased with the recent developments. Its reaching out for a champion to right what it considers as wrong. The aforementioned champion did not ask for any of that shit.





	Green Eyes

Have you ever had a fucking horrible day? That's a stupid question of course you had, everyone had. But I am willing to bet that I had worse. It all started when I visited my pain of a little brother. He was a weird kid from the get go, but I liked to think that we got along just fine, despite him dressing like a scarecrow with black and white face paint on a daily basis. He wasn't really a goth, or a satanist, or at least I never seen him with either of those groups, but he was pretty deep into the occult shit. Still, he occasionally let me sleep on his couch when I was in the neighbourhood, which I always reciprocated by buying him a hearty meal. Both of us were shit cooks, but I at least took the time to go to a restaurant from time to time, while he spent all his meagre money on those voodoo knick-knacks he loved so much. I never knew how he managed to pay for creepier and creepier stuff by the day with working from home on his computer, but then again, he was always a modern kid, while I enjoyed renovating homes with nothing more modern than a circular saw. Anyway, despite our differences, we got along just fine. At least until he decided to sacrifice me to some kind of god damned monster. Literally in this case, since I am pretty sure that it was a real fucking demon from the underworld. Based on my movie experience at least. 

So, there was I, simply chilling on my brother's couch, thinking about if I should install spray foam insulation, or classic fiberglass in a house a couple of streets away, when Jamie decides to come out from his mancave in the basement of his home. He always said he built it to get closer to lay lines or some shit. He stands in front of me, all black and leathery as always. His short black hair styled into spikes. He wore a mask which was vaguely African and painted with a hodgepodge of religious and occult symbols from upside down cross, to snakes and those weird swirly symbols the orange clothed monks wear in national geographic. I could recognise maybe half of them, the others were completely foreign to me, still it looked completely ridiculous that’s for sure. It was as if it was made by a five-year-old, I could even see some duct tape for crying out. I looked up at him, and before I could ask if he wants to scare me or something, he suddenly pulled out a bag and just dumped it into my face. It was some kind of red-orange powder, and hell, even if the kid was just a fan of the occult, he was apparently a darn good chemist or something. It knocked me out before I could jump up. When I came to my senses, I was tied with metal straps to a big slab of grey stone in the basement. I haven’t seen this particular section of the house since, well, never actually. Jamie was always vehement about me never going into his "sanctum", and frankly, since we both grew up in a small shared bedroom, I could understand his needs for privacy. I started to reconsider my opinion really fucking fast though.

The place was a mess. It was full of the symbols decorating the mask, cast iron skulls and crosses, bowls apparently made out of animal bones, and all around crazy shit. Hell, there was even an honest to god blood-soaked carving on the wall, although if I can wave my own flag a little, I am a damn good contractor, and I am pretty sure the red thing was Glidden paint mixed with something that made it more vibrant. Regardless, the freaky looking curved blade my brother clutched above my chest looked much more real and worrying. Jamie was babbling something in some language I never heard, but it made the hair on my back tingle. His voice choked a little here or there, and he looked, oddly aloof for someone who was about to commit fratricide. Of course, I started to struggle, and tried to wake his idiot ass up from the stupor he was apparently in. The only thing I got for my trouble was that he reached out and grabbed some random piece of carved black stone from a nearby container labelled with Gothic letters as "Phoney Junk" and shoved it in my mouth before I could close it. He done it so fast and with such force that it chipped one of my tooth, but that time I had some other problems, like trying not to choke on a piece of obsidian. While I struggled to spit out the damned thing from my mouth, he quickly and almost professionally wrapped some black silk around my face, preventing me to do just that. I tried to scream, but it only made the rock slide deeper into my throat. It slowly closed my air tube. Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about suffocating to death on a piece of occult mumbo jumbo. Unfortunately, this was because Jamie, my little brother, raised his ceremonial knife, and slammed it into my chest, like he was trying to carve a particularly stubborn watermelon. I think he done it in a way that the knife slid between my ribcage on its way to my heart, since I didn’t hear a crunch. Not that I would have cared very much if I did. A knife to the heart is very good in concentrating all your attention to it. And that was how I died. And that was how I met him. Good fucking damn it. 

\--

It was cold, that was pretty much expected. You always hear about people surviving near death experiences, and they always mention the cold. And the darkness, that was there too. All black and endless. The millions upon millions of huge green eyes on the other hand, now that was hell of unexpected. Some of them were small, like a normal human eye, others were the size of a bowling ball and a half, then again there were a couple of them which were kilometres upon kilometres long, in the distance, a little bit out of focus. They were all looking at me though. If I still had my body, I would have probably shat myself right then and there. This way though, I just had a vague feeling of discomfort coming from my…something. I was nothing more than a perspective, I didn’t have eyes, brain, or any of the hanger on bits usually necessary to look around, yet I could still do it. Jamie must have done some horrible stupid shit. The god damned idiot just gone and killed me, dumping me here into some celestial peepshow. I got the urge to scratch my head, which was impossible in absence of anything related to the motion, so instead I just stared back at the eyes. They seemed a tad bit surprised at that. Then I thought:

"You know, if you don’t mind my saying, if you are God, you are a tad bit different than I thought you would be. " Then, the eyes somehow drifted closer. It was mildly disconcerting, but apparently without glands, you can't really panic. Then I heard, well, more like felt something which my consciousness translated it like this:  
"I have no connection to that prick."  
"Err…" I thought, since you know, I am an eloquent fellow. "Good, because I never got time for churches. Renovated a couple of them though, they payed well. So, who, or what are you?" Then here come something that I can only describe as a rusty record player getting destroyed by using a chain smoking old cat as tied to a tuning fork, only as a feeling, instead of a sound. As I said, I am an eloquent fellow. After a small shock, I realised that It must have been the eyes name. I sure as hell didn’t catch even half of it. "Err..." I tried again this using the word to extend my time to think for an answer. " Good name. But can I call you, Green Eyes? Easier on my ton…bra…just easier." The eyes curled upwards on their edges and quivered a little. It was as if the thing was laughing. Then it made me feel its words again.  
"Green Eyes it is. And as for the "what" section. I am an outsider. Your world was floating in the interdimensional see like a soap bubble and it bumped into me. It woke me up, it was the first experience for me. Something that grabbed me and dragged me out from a blind existence. I studied your world like a blind man studies the first speck of light he ever sees, with curiosity and caution. I looked at it with a million perspective, making sure that I wasn’t noticed. I found delight in the development in your species, like one finds delight in the growth of a butterfly. But then my million eyes saw deeper into your world, and I was horrified to find out that it was manipulated by existences beyond yours, powers playing their own game in what they call good and evil, but I could see was absolute order and absolute chaos. The stop of development, the death of the butterfly. I could not let it be. I COULD ERASE THEM FOR THEIR ATTROCITIES."  
Its eyes started to glow with sudden light, that made my non-existent body shake in fear. The darkness swirled around the pupils, which were nothing but black slits before, but now grew into an oval of purple straight from the fucking abyss. Have you ever stared in to the heart of a black hole? I sure as hell ain't, but I would rather do just that, before repeating that experience, thank you very much.  
"BUT…" The pulsating storm of his words quieted down as fast as it came. "That would hurt the butterfly. This matter needs to be handled by something a bit smaller than I. So, I placed a small stone in the world, a stone which looked interesting, but it was also undetectable for any powers already operating above you." The eyes focused on me again. "And it found you." Thoughts raced in my hand. The chunk of obsidian that chinked my teeth. The one Jamie tucked down my throat to stop me from screaming. It was connected to a god damned elder god or something, and my idiot of a brother never even realised it. He put it into the "Phoney" box for fuck sake. My perspective looked up to Green Eyes. "You will do my bidding." The million slits in the darkness were glowing again, that made me feel like someone just put a non-existent gun against my non-existent head. I was pretty sure that negotiations were not in order about my role as a celestial hitman.  
"Can I do my own shit on the side?" I asked slowly, trying to at least get something out of that day. To track down Jamie and question the little shit why he thought it was a good idea to shank me on a makeshift sacrificial altar in the name of some dark and twisted.  
"But of course. As I said, I delight in your species stumbling forward, forging their own future. " The sides of the eyes curled upwards. "Now, I already took your time. You should find someone to brief you about the true face of your world before I give you something to do. I have a recommendation…" 

\--

 

"So, there I was, talking to some Lovecraftian peepshow enthusiast, just after I died by the hands of my own brother. But believe me, it wasn’t even over for that day. The awakening after that, yeah that was another fucking shit to deal with. Just imagine, waking up like this, in the middle of a forest, where Jamie just fucking tossed me in a ditch, just to find out that it was almost half a year later, and he disappeared. Even that was hard to find you know, its not like I can just ask anybody like this." -I pointed at my face slowly leaning towards the guy in front of me. He screamed again, and fumbled with his rifle, which he shot me with a couple of times already. I was quite shocked at first, and frankly I got scared to get my body destroyed before I even managed to find a single clue, but it turns out the man's gun wasn’t loaded with buckshot, but with salt. Fucking table salt. Maybe he thought I was an unseasoned steak or something. Nevertheless, he reloaded the weapon again and fired it straight towards my head. The small specks of the rock salt impacted ineffectually against my pitch black, bare skull. The green fire burning inside my empty eye sockets flickered a little in annoyance. If I had an eyebrow, I would have probably raised it at him. "Right, throwing condiments at me probably won't work. Although you might want to try pepper, I quite hated it in my time. But while you load it into your weapon, could you tell me where I find someone? Or a couple of someone's. Apparently, they are called, "The Winchester brothers".


End file.
